After the Fall
by Shakimbo
Summary: “…..The sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves, whomever they chose.” -Genesis 6 Verse 1 and 2
1. Prologue

After the Fall

Pairing: Dean/ OFC

Rating: R

Category: Au, Drama, Angst, Romance

Spoilers: Set after Season 5 of Supernatural

Summary: _"…..The sons of God saw that the daughters of men were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves, whomever they chose." -Genesis 6 Verse 1 and 2_

_*******_

_Prologue_

_May 2008_

"_I had lost faith .I refused Guidance from those who offered. I've sinned against our father. I turned my back on everyone. I didn't know it'd be this way. I didn't. Father was right to punish me. He was. For centuries I've wandered aimlessly. I cannot do this any longer. I cannot exist without purpose. without love. I cannot remain fallen!"_

_She moved from the shadow of the room until she was standing in front of her charge. _

"_What do you want?" _

_Bagriel looked up at his savior with tears in his eyes. "Forgiveness." _

_She stared down into his eyes. "Are you truly repentant?" _

_He nodded. "Yes."_

"_Do you accept the holy trinity?" _

"_With love in my heart." He whispered._

_She nodded once and placed one hand on his cheek and the other on his forehead. She closed her eyes. _

_A bright light emanated from his forehead and he gasped from the warmth he felt fill his damned soul. The light became brighter, blindingly so He closed his eyes, giving into the feeling as the light enveloped his whole vessel and his grace returned to him. _

_She watched as her charge collapsed against the sofa. She sighed and lifted his legs so that he was more comfortable. There was always a feeling of completion whenever she granted a fallen their redemption. But, for some unspeakable reason, she didn't feel anything but uneasy. _

_The ground beneath her feet began to tremble and with a gasp, she stumbled backward. She clutched her heart as a feeling of terror overtook her. _

_Hell's gate has opened. _

"_Oh, god." She whispered. "Please, no." _

May 2010

The world hadn't ended.

Grace stared up at the sky with trepidation. Lightening flashed followed by a clap of thunder. The sky opened up and heavy rain began to fall toward the ground.

"God cleansing the earth." She whispered, the words her mother would always say.

The war is over. The Angels are victorious.

She knew this to be true. She could sense it.

The wind picked up, whipping her unruly curls onto her face and blocking her vision. She pushed them away and stared down the grassy fields in front of her house. She felt the familiar tingle on the back of her neck and she shivered.

Someone was coming.

Just as soon as the thought passed through her mind, she could see someone stumbling down the path toward her home. The tingling increased ten fold and her eyes widened.

"Castiel." She whispered, and suddenly he was in front of her, holding up an unconscious man. She stumbled backward when Castiel suddenly stepped forward.

"What-" She trailed off when he looked up at her, silently asking permission into her home. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, the word no on the tip of her tongue, but it doesn't come. Her eyes strayed toward the nearly dying man and she sighed from the pain and sympathy she felt.

Silently, she turned and walked into her home, Castiel close on her heels.

"Where?" He asked her.

"Guest bedroom." She answered shortly. She made her way down a short hallway and paused at the first door on the left. She reached and opened the door, moving out of the way as Castiel stepped inside and placed his burden onto the bed.

He was barely alive, she noted. She could hear the erratic beating of his heart. "Shouldn't he be in a hospital?" She said softly.

"He will not be safe in a hospital." He replied.

She raised an eyebrow. "Who is he?"

Castiel looked down at his charge. "He is…he was Michael's vessel."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Winchester." her mind whispered. "Is he-"

"It is over." Castiel cut in flatly. He was gone and back within seconds, holding a large green duffle bag and a blue bag with the words Ohio State hospital written on it.

She frowned at him.

"Medical supplies." He explained. He tossed the bags onto the floor. "I've healed the mortal wounds so he is out of danger, and it has drained most of my energy. He still needs medical attention."

She tilted her head. "You are no longer cut off from Heaven then."

"No." He replied. "I am not. Because I was cut off for so long, it will take me time to become fully restored. " He glanced down at Dean briefly. "You can heal him."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "He looks bad."

"He will live." Castiel said with conviction. "He is strong." He stared at her for a long moment. "You have your mother's eyes." He stated and she looked away from him, feeling the immediate rush of sadness at the mention of her mother.

She glanced back at him and is unsurprised to surprised to see him watching her with a blank expression. They stared at one another for a long moment before he looked away, lifting his head as if listening to something.

"I must go."

She frowned and stepped forward. "Go?" She asked, her eyes narrowed. "Go where? You can't leave him here!" She hoped he won't disappear like he always does, but this time he doesn't.

"He ill be safe here." he said with a strange tone. "Nothing can harm him here." It's a fact that they both know is true.

"You-" She trailed off, feeling true anger. "After all of this time. You show up asking for.." She trailed off when he turned to face her, his expression hard.

"I am not asking." He said and she lowered her head in shame.

"I'm-" She trailed off as she realized Castiel was no longer there.

"Heal him Grace." She heard him whisper into her mind.

She stood in the middle of the bedroom. Her eyes slowly strayed toward her new guest who was currently bleeding on her sheets. She reached for the medical bag and stepped toward the bed.

****

"_Sam?" _

_He knew it happened moments before the knife slashed his chest. A horrible dawning realization as he watched the darkness envelop his little brother._

"_Sammy no!" _

_He fell onto his knees, clutching his chest as blood pooled from the cut. "Sammy!" _

_He watched as the monster wearing his brother's face turned to him with a small smile. His eyes widened as the monster slowly leaned down to whisper into his ear. _

"_Sammy isn't here anymore." _

_Dean looked up at Satan, angry tears in his eyes._

_Lucifer slowly smiled down at Dean before raising his fist. _

_There is nothing but Darkness afterward. _

_He welcomed it. _

_*****_

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

His screaming ceased and Grace opened her eyes from the sudden silence. She removed her hand from his forehead with a small sigh.

She stared at Dean. Her eyes sad. Even unconscious, his pain was so great, so palpable that she could barely stand to be in the same room and watch him for more than an hour.

She had more control than this, but there was something in his fragile emotion that was overwhelming to her senses. She turned away from the unconscious man and went about cleaning up the bloody shirt and gauze that littered the floor. She placed the bloody items in the wastebasket and reached for the basin of water she had used to clean the blood from his face and chest. Cleaning and stitching his wounds had been easier than she thought they would be. Castiel did heal most of the worst damage.

She glanced over her shoulder as he groaned. She could see his eyes move rapidly beneath his eyelids and she knew he was in another nightmare. She sighed heavily, knowing the screaming would soon begin again.

As soon as the thought passed through her mind, he began to scream.

"Sammy!"

She moved to place a comforting hand on his shoulder and gasped from the heat that emanated from him. She tilted her head as she stared at him. She moved her hand toward his forehead. He was burning up! She knew he didn't have an infection. She had cleaned his wounds with perfection as well as given him antibiotics.

She knew this fever wasn't a physical problem. It was psychological. She took a deep breath and placed her hand back onto his forehead. She closed her eyes, reaching out to his mind. She gasped as her mind ran head first into a mental wall. It was strong so much so she had to expel more energy than usual.

He is strong willed.

Swallowing, she placed her other hand over his chest and she slowly felt the wall fade away and she gasped from the rush of emotions she felt coming from him. He was so twisted up inside. Hurt and betrayed. Fear in place of trust.

"_Sammy!"_

The name is screamed into her mind almost desperately. Heart wrenchingly sad. She is surprised from the amount of love she feels coming from him by just the mere thought of this name. There is loss there.

"Your emotions are so turbulent." She said softly "Like black swirling clouds." She gently willed his mind into calmer more peaceful seas.

She pulled back with a gasp. She could feel the blood dripping from her nose and she stepped away from him.

She stared down at him She stared down at him, noting how his face no longer held the expression of pure anguish he was sporting a few moments ago. He looked relaxed and the steady rise and fall of his chest told her he was now resting comfortably. If only for one night. She knew it wouldn't last. The mind was a powerful thing.

She reached over and switched the bed side lamp off before slowly make her way out of the bedroom.

***

She stumbled her way into the bathroom, reaching for her wash cloth as she switched the light on. She turned on the faucet and wet the cloth, ringing it out and brining it to her bloody nose. She stared at her pale features as she gently wiped the blood away. She sighed shakily as she felt the beginnings of a migraine. It was difficult to probe someone's mind without their express permission. She reached inside her medicine cabinet for some aspirin. She quickly popped them into her mouth, swallowed some water and tossed the bloody cloth into the sink.

Leaving the bathroom, she made her way into her darkened bedroom. She didn't bother undressing, just slid on top of her covers in a fetal position, wrapping her arms around her legs as she tried to figure out why Castiel brought this man into her home.

He had said he would be safe here. That much was true. Hell's gate was closed and Satan was back in hell. But, she knew that didn't mean all demons' were simply damned back to Hell. She knew they had to be looking for him. Castiel had told her to heal him and she did. She was wonderful at taking care of people, but it has been so long since she's taken care of anyone.

Why did she feel this way? Why did she feel so unsure of herself? She let out a shuddering breath and closed her eyes and silently prayed for strength.

"Castiel?" She whispered desperately. She swallowed. "Castiel?." Tears formed in her eyes and she blinked them away. "Father," She whispered brokenly. "Please answer me." She could feel exhaustion began to creep in and she gave into it, falling into a fitful sleep.

Castiel emerged from the shadowed corner of Grace's bedroom and moved toward her bed to watch her sleep. He reached out and gently placed a hand on the back of her head. He closed his eyes for a few moments before opening them again. "Rest easy, my daughter. When you awake you will have clarity." He backed away from her, fading into the shadows.

******

The sun was shinning for the first time in weeks the next day.

Grace hummed along to the radio as she watered her plants. She smiled to herself as she realized she had saved the fern plant that was previously dying. She turned and opened the back door, letting the fresh air breeze through the kitchen. She could smell the wet grass from last night's storm and her smile widened.

She didn't know where the odd mood had come from all of a sudden. She had woken up the next morning feeling refreshed and with a new prospective on things.

Her guest had still not woken up and she suspected he would be that way for quite some time. Even though she had guided him into resting peacefully the night before, the turbulence inside him had returned full force the next morning.

The screaming had stopped though, so that was a plus. She knew Castiel had left dean in her care for a reason. He always had a reason. Still, she knew her apprehension was silly and her objective was now clear.

Dean Winchester was a broken man. His soul was battered. She knew she had to help him. She knew she had to heal him, inside and out. She glanced down as she felt a familiar body rub itself against her. "Hello, Clem."

The cat meowed up at her and she leaned down to rub it's head. "This isn't going to be a cake walk huh?"

The cat blinked at her then meowed as if answering.

She smiled and nodded once. "I guess I should go and see how our guest is fairing."

****

His eyes slowly drifted and he stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. His vision swam in front of him and she blinked, trying in vain to focus his vision. His eyes moved down his body, and he frowned as he realized he was in a bed. He swallowed and winced from the pain he felt from such a simple movement.

He had to be dead.

He tried to move and his eyes widened from the burning pain that reverberated from his chest. He closed his eyes and groaned in agony.

He was in hell.

"It's okay." A soft voice whispered.

He opened his eyes as a small hand was placed on his shoulder. He stared blearily up at the tiny beauty before him. She had long curly brown hair, a small nose and a young face. He knew there had to be more from the knowledgeable look in her deep dark brown pools.

He blinked as she leaned over him and his eyes drifted closed as the sweet girly scent he couldn't name invaded his senses.

'This had to be heaven.' He thinks as the burning sensation in his chest suddenly fades to nothing.

Grace pulled the needle gently from his arm. "You should rest some more." She murmured quietly.

'That sounded like a fabulous idea.' Dean thought; his eyes drifting closed.

He drifted in and out of consciousness for the next several days, too hurt to do anything, but lie there as he fell into the same nightmare time and again. However, he was comforted by the soft sweet voice, whispering to him. Offering a comfort he subconsciously craved.

*****

Grace sighed heavily and turned onto her side as she felt herself on the edges of sleep. She groaned as Clem meowed loudly and hopped onto her bed, landing on top of her pillow.

"Clem!" She growled; keeping her eyes closed. "Watch it." She tensed as she felt someone enter her room and her eyes shot open as she felt something cold and hard pressed against her temple. She slowly turned, her eyes widening as she came face to face with Dean.

He stood over her bed, his angry tired face illuminated by the bright moon. He trained the gun on her. "Get up." He said, his voice hoarse, but angry.

Grace slowly sat up, her heart pounding. She stared at him. He had put on a white t-shirt and was clutching his stomach with the other arm. She could already see blood begin the seep through the t-shirt, staining it red. "You ripped your stitches." She whispered. She moved toward him and paused when he lifted the gun high. "You're hurt."

"Don't move." He spat. "Where am I?"

Grace stared at him calmly as he glared angrily at her. "Ohio." She answered. She pushed the covers off of her legs. "I-you're hurt." She repeated. "You're bleeding." She could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to work out what had happened. She could see the moment real panic and fear began to take place of his confused expression. She reached out for him, but stopped when he lifted the gun higher.

"I said don't move!" He spat. He tossed a wooden necklace beside her on the bed. "I know a hoodoo necklace when I see one. I know what you are bitch!"

She frowned at him confused. "It's a shanty Charm." She said softly. She had hung it over

the headboard where he slept. "It's supposed to chase nightmares away."

He ignored her explanation. "Where's my brother?" He asked angrily. "Where's Sam?"

Her expression changed from confusion to sympathy. "I don't…"

"Sammy!" He yelled cutting her off. He looked around confused before turning back to her. "What did you do to him you bitch?"

"Please stop calling me that." She replied. "I didn't do anything to your brother. I don't know where he is." She swallowed. "Can you put the gun down? You're scaring me."

"Like I give a rat's ass." He said, keeping the gun trained on her. "How the hell did I get here?"

"You don't remember." She said softly. "There was….Castiel brought you here. You were very badly injured." She noticed the red stain on his t-shirt grow larger. "Please let me help you." She said. "You're bleeding." She watched as he looked down at himself then back up at her. His eyes were wide with dawning realization.

"No." He whispered. His arm slowly lowered, the gun dropping to the floor with a loud clang.

She slowly stood up from the bed. "You should lie down." She reached out and touched his arm, pausing when he flinched away from her, his expression horrified. She lowered her hand to her side.

Dean slowly backed away from the woman, his heart pounding inside his chest. Blood rushed into his ears. "Cas!" He called. "Cas! You son of a bitch! Where are you?"

Grace reached out and touched his shoulder. "He won't answer you." She said softly.

"Because he won't answer me."

Dean's vision swam as he looked down at Grace. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he fainted.

TBC

*****

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	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dean's eyes fluttered open just as Grace put the finishing touches on fixing up his stitches. His head rested on a pillow and he was still lying on the floor. He slowly blinked up at the ceiling.

"Your rip wasn't that bad." She said softly. "It's a good thing you fainted." She glanced at his face briefly before looking back down at her work. "Sorry about the t-shirt." She apologized. "Had to cut it to get it off." She placed the gauze over his freshly stitched wounds.

He didn't respond, only continued staring blankly up at the ceiling.

She sighed and moved to clean up the supplies. She was gone and back again, unsurprised to see he hadn't bothered to move. "Dean?" she said quietly. "You have to get up. I can't carry you."

He ignored her. Just continued to stare up at the ceiling. She knew he was probably in shock. Had more than likely shut down.

She slowly stepped forward and leaned down toward him. She touched his shoulder and his eyes slid over to her. "You have to get up. Unless you want to lie here on the cold floor all night." He blinked and she smiled disarmingly at him. He moved and she placed a supporting hand on his shoulder as she helped him slowly sit up.

She stood up and gently helped him stand, wincing at his slightly groan of protest. He suddenly shrugged her off of him.

"I can walk by myself." He said, his voice gruff.

Grace nodded dumbly, too surprised that he even spoke first. She followed close behind as he limped his way back toward the guest room.

He pushed the door open and she glanced at his bag that was on the floor, clothes strewn everywhere. She glanced at his back as he just stood there, staring down at he bed.

"You should rest." She suggested quietly. She watched as he seemed to tense, almost as if he had forgotten she was there.

He turned to face her and she flinched from his hard stare. Taking a deep breath, she moved forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. She watched as his expression changed and the anger in his eyes suddenly disappeared, the blank mask back in it's place. He let her push him gently back onto the bed.

"Rest." She repeated softly.

His eyes grew heavy at her suggestion. "Who are you?" He asked softly.

"A friend." Grace answered. "Sleep." She said quietly. His eyes closed and she silently thanked whoever invented sleeping spells.

**********

Dean woke up several days later with a cat on his chest. He frowned and moved his arm, attempting to shift the cat off of him.

The cat meowed at him, but didn't bothering moving off of his chest. He sighed and gave up, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He no longer felt the demands of sleep pulling at the edge of his mind. Now all he felt was a strange comforting numbness.

He swallowed as he tried in vain to organize his thoughts.

The world hadn't ended.

That much he knew.

He was still alive.

The slight burn in his chest told him that.

Sam was…Sammy was lost. He couldn't remember what happened. Just bits and pieces, but he knew. He could feel tears gather in his eyes and he closed them. Sam's anguished pained face flashed behind his eyes and he fought the scream he felt rising in his throat.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He shooed the cat away from him and slowly sat up. He swung his legs onto the bed and very slowly stood up on wobbly legs.

*******

Grace made her way back into her home, struggling with the bags of groceries she held. She kicked the front door closed and made her way toward the kitchen. She hurriedly placed the bags onto the counter and sighed as the burden was lifted from her arms.

"What are you?"

"Ahh!" She screamed, her hand flying to her chest. She turned, surprised to see Dean sitting at her kitchen table, pale and angry. "You're up."

"I am." He said. "I also had time to do some snooping around. There are Enochian symbols everywhere. Not to mention all the hoodoo books and crap you got lying around." He glared and she jumped as he held up his gun at her again. "What are you?"

Grace stepped forward, ignoring him when he suddenly raised the gun. "There's no bullets in there."

Dean frowned at her and looked down at his gun. He noticed, for the first, the weight of the gun was vastly different if there had been bullets in it. His eyes slid back toward her own and he switched the gun around so that the butt was up. "I can still beat you with it."

Grace stepped back from him. "I understand you're upset, but there's no need to get this violent."

If it were possible. Dean's glare hardened even more. Violence was the only reaction he could bother to feel right now. "Listen lady, my patience has ran out bout three exits back. Now can you either answer my question or I can commence with the beating. What are you?"

Despite him trying to hide it. Grace could see the broken man behind those hard piercing eyes. She could see he was trembling, trying to hiding it, but failing miserably. "I'm not a witch." She assured his silent accusation. "I'm human." She said softly.

"You're lying." He spat angrily. "Want to try that again."

Grace rolled her eyes to the high heavens. "Okay." she said very softly. "I'm a Nephilim."

Dean blinked at her for a long moment before lowering the gun with a shake of his head. "A Nephilim?" He repeated. "You mean to tell me you're half human half-"

"Angel." She cut in. She clasped her hands in front of herself at his assessing gaze. She could see the doubt in his eyes and she knew he was deciding if he would kill her or not.

"Thought you were giants." He finally said.

She shrugged and shook her head. "Human myth. Although, we are born with extremely large heads." She smiled at her own joke, it quickly fading when he didn't share in on her humor. "That was a joke."

Dean stared at her. "I know. It just wasn't funny."

She looked away from him an embarrassed blush forming on her cheeks. She turned to face him again, involuntarily shivering from the intense expression on his face.

"If you're half Angel, then who-" He trailed off as she looked at him. He huffed out a small chuckle. "You gotta be kidding me."

She tilted her head and Dean was instantly shook with the familiarly of that movement.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Nothing." He answered. He glanced idly around her kitchen. "Well since I'm sitting here, do you think you can scrounge something to eat for me?"

Grace nodded once. "Do you think you can put the deadly weapon away?"

He gave her his own nod and stuffed the gun in his jeans.

Grace could feel his eyes on her as she moved about the kitchen. She quickly put the groceries away before preparing him some chicken soup and a turkey sandwich. She watched as he ate his food as if it were his last meal on earth. He hadn't eaten for days, she realized. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Fine." He answered shortly. The pain on his chest had lessened, but the itches were starting to get itchy. "So, Cas brought me here."

She nodded. "Yes." She said. "You were-he healed you."

He paused, the spoon halfway toward his mouth. "Must be back with heaven then." He said and continued eating.

She nodded as she watched him. There was something off about him. The anger he had just moments ago seemed to have disappeared an in it's place was almost a calm indifference. He was asking as if nothing was wrong at all. She blinked as she realized he was speaking.

"Where are am I?"

"Parma." She answered. "Ohio. Just twenty minutes outside of Cleveland."

He nodded once and continued to eat. "What day is it?"

She slowly sat across from him. "May 30th." she answered softly.

He paused again and a shadow crossed his face.

"Grace." She said suddenly.

He glanced up at her. "What?" He asked, mouth full of turkey.

"My name," She said. "is Grace."

He snorted. "Of course it is." He glanced back down at the turkey in his hands. "And Cas is your father." He finished off his sandwich in four more bites and sat back with sigh.

She reached for a pitcher of water and poured him a glass. "He told me to help you." She said very softly. "I want to help you."

His glare was back. "Help me with what?" He asked, suddenly standing.

Grace stood from her seat too. "I understand you've been through a lot. You have to give yourself time to grieve. Your brother is-"

"Shut up!" He suddenly growled. "Don't you dare mention him or so help me I'll-" He trailed off and shook his head. "You're lucky you're Cas's daughter." He finished and she could hear the empty threat for what it was.

They both stared at each other for a long moment. "I apologize." She said suddenly. He looked tense, almost ready to bolt any moment. She moved to grab the dirty dishes from the table. "I hope you let me look at your stitches." She moved toward the sink and placed the dishes down. "It's been eight days already. They must be itchy." She turned to glance at Dean, unsurprised to his eyes are narrowed. She knew she'd won this round.

******

Dean winced as Grace placed antibiotic ointment over his stitches. He glowered down at her, barely listening as she spoke.

He had to get out of here. He had to move. He had people to find and things to do. He had lost two weeks. He couldn't remember two weeks of what happened. This wasn't the deal he'd asked for. He- His thoughts suddenly stopped when she looked up at him. He suddenly tensed when she smiled softly at him and lifted her hand. She placed her soft hand on his cheek and he immediately sagged boneless against the bed, a strange calm overcoming him.

"You stink." She said softly.

He frowned. "Huh?"

"You stink." She said standing. "You should go shower, but try not to get those stitches wet."

The sarcastic reply suddenly died on Dean's lips and he shrugged. She watched as he stood up and made his way toward the bathroom.

Grace let out the breath she'd been holding. "You can stop hiding now." She turned as Castiel made his way from the corner of the room. She turned to look at her father, surprised at the blood on the shirt he wore. "What happened?" She asked.

He waved his hand. "Nothing of your concern." He said dismissively. He glanced to where Dean had vacated. "He is well." He stated and Grace sighed.

"Physically." she said softly. "But all the other stuff.." She trailed off as Castiel turned to look at her. "He's broken inside." She said softly.

Castiel nodded. "Yes. That is why you must help him."

Grace sighed. "He is aggressive."

Cas tilted his head to the side. "He will not harm you." He moved so that he was standing In front of her. "He can be difficult, but he is a good man."

Grace merely nodded. Difficult wasn't quite the word she would use to describe Dean Winchester. She couldn't read him. She couldn't figure him out. "I do want to help him. I do." She answered. "But, he's closed himself off. Completely. I doubt I'll be able to get through to him."

Castiel put his hand on her cheek. "I know you can." He lowered his hand to her shoulder and he squeezed gently. "Yet this I call to mind," He recited, the words softly. "and therefore I have hope."

Grace smiled up at him and glanced down as the words from the bible washed over her. She glanced up again, unsurprised to see Castiel was gone.

TBC

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	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Three weeks later_

"I need you car keys." He said, using the same gruff tone he always uses with her.

She doesn't take it personally that he doesn't ask her nicely. She just silently handed them over and bites her tongue from advising him he shouldn't leave. She knew there's a chance that he won't be coming back every time he leaves, but he does.

He always comes back and she can't help but wonder why.

He comes and goes like a ghost. A man haunted; looking for lost things. She lets him be for the most part and he ignores her for the other part, only listening when she nags him about eating because he forgets sometimes. He has his good days and his bad days. Of course, more good than bad. His good days consisted of him only drinking for half of the day while his bad days consisted of him drinking the whole day followed by passing out on the living room floor.

Even though he drinks, the nightmares still come through. The screaming always came first. The painful sobbing afterward. He doesn't seem to remember the next morning, but she thinks he does and is too prideful to acknowledge it whenever she brought it up during breakfast.

The next night is quiet and she's shocked to see he was nowhere in sight when she went to check on him. He's gone for five days and on the fifth day she's silently begging for Castiel's help, but there was no need because he returned that same night.

He looked surprised to see her on the couch, waiting. She stood up as soon as he stumbled through the door. Her anger melted as she stared at him. Concern coming onto her expression as she noticed the blood on his shirt and hands. She stepped forward, pausing when he spoke.

"It ain't my blood." He said softly.

She stopped and her face suddenly hardened. She was trembling with rage and she stepped away from him, frightened by the feelings he invoked inside of her. She swallowed. "I'm going to bed." She turned away from him. "Try not to get blood all over the place."

She slammed her bedroom door closed and collapsed face first onto her bed, tears falling

from her eyes. She had thought he was dead; disappearing without as much as a trace. It scared her and the rage she felt boiling inside of her from his irresponsible absence scared her more. She cried to herself, empty hazel eyes flashing in front of her closed lids.

Dean was halfway down the hall, moving toward her room before he realized what he was doing with a frown. He turned, and made his way toward the bathroom to strip and wash the blood and sweat off of his body. The vampires had been harder to track than usual. But once they were found, he chopped them up easy. He tilted his head back, letting the hot water pelt his face.

He had been so close.

He ran his hands through his hair before resting his hands on the wall in front of him. He could feel the vampire's hands around his throat. He had felt his life slowly slipping from him. He was so close to giving in. But, he didn't. He fought on. He switched the water off and reached for a towel. He wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at the haggard stranger in front of him.

His eyes, once alive showed nothing. They were empty. Dead. He ran his fingers across the beard he didn't bother to shave. He looked haggard. Much older than his thirty one years. He exactly like his Dad had after his mom had died and he started to laugh; laugh so hard it made his ribs hurt. The laughter soon turned to hysterics. Tears flooded his eyes and he shoved his fist into his mouth as he cried.

Dean gritted his teeth in anger. 'Soon.' He thought to himself. 'Soon this nightmare will be over.'

Grace is surprised to see him sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee the next afternoon. She ignored him and moved to make herself a cup of tea instead. She could feel his eyes on her as she moved about the kitchen. She reached for the sugar and slowly stirred, forcing herself not to turn and face him.

"I'll be-I'm going out again tonight."

She tensed at the sound of his voice, quiet but loud in the stillness of her kitchen. She slowly turned to face him, her expression neutral. She silently questioned the painful twinge in her heart as she looked at him, sitting at her kitchen table looking lost and haggard. "It's dangerous for you."

He shrugged. "I don't care." He answered softly.

He won't meet her eyes, but she can hear the lack of harshness in his tone. That was different. She sipped her tea. "Will you be careful?"

He doesn't answer her this time, only continued to stare into his coffee as if it held the secrets to life itself.

She shook her head at him. "Why do you come back here?" she asked the question she had been wondering for the past few weeks. "When you leave, why come back here?"

He looked up at her this time and she once again found herself lost in his gaze. "I don't know." He answered truthfully.

She nodded once and moved to leave the kitchen. "I have work to do."

He came back the same night bloody and bruised, but mostly unhurt. He's surprised to find her waiting for him. She doesn't say anything to him as he stumbled through the front door. She simply goes into her bedroom and closed the door quietly.

She doesn't ask about the blood on his hands and he pretends not to hear her crying each time she closes that door.

It's a week later that Dean found himself in a warehouse in downtown Cleveland, hunting a Shape shifter. It had been sloppy and he gave up defending himself as the Shape shifter beat the living crap out of him.

He closed his eyes and waited for the final blow as the shifter reared it's fist back once again.

"Ahh!"

He opened his eyes, shocked at the image of Castiel burning the shape shifter up from the inside out. Ashes and dust fell over his face as he stared up at Castiel with wide eyes.

He barely had time to scramble away as Cas suddenly stepped forward, leaned down and touched his shoulder. "Wha-"

He felt nauseous and dizzy and he doesn't have to open his eyes to know Castiel had transported him somewhere.

"If you think you've been alive these past few weeks because of your mere hunting ability, then you are a fool Dean."

Dean opened his eyes to glare up at the Angel who stared down at him with a blank expression. "Fu-" He trailed off and glanced around, his eyes widening as he realized where they were.

St. Mary's Convent.

There's a flash in Dean's mind and he can see himself, or his body standing over Sam, his hand around his throat. He shook his head and slowly stood up. "Why'd you bring me here?" He asked quietly.

Castiel ignored his question and spoke his words carefully, softly. "I have seen people struggle in this cruel and unfriendly world. I've seen humans starving, freezing, stricken with illness, and yet they have the courage to move on. To live." He tilted his head to the side. "But yet you try to throw your life away as if it means nothing."

Dean swallowed and glared at him. "I asked you a god damn question! Why did you bring me here?"

Castiel suddenly stepped forward, his eyes blazing with anger. "Do not take the lord's name in vain!"

Dean barely flinched. "Why'd you bring me here?"

Castiel held his hands out. "This is where it began and this is where it ended." He turned to look at Dean. "It is real." he said. "It has happened."

Dean closed his eyes briefly and he could see the shocked gasp fall from his brother's lips as his hands brought Michael's sword through his chest. Those aren't his memories. "It wasn't me." He said quietly. He shook his head. "It was Michael. Sam was-wasn't himself."

Castiel nodded once. "Yes." He said.

Dean opened his eyes. "I wasn't suppose to remember this." he said softly. "I wasn't suppose to live through this. Why am I still alive?"

"You said yes." Castiel said simply. "You fought for heaven. You sent Lucifer back into perdition. You-"

"Michael did those things!" Dean cut in angrily. "Not me!"

Castiel stared at him. "Do you believe it was that simple Dean?" He stepped closer. "You said yes. After everything. At the end, you still said yes." Cas touched his shoulder. "You wish to know why you are still alive. Because you said yes. Because in the end, you did what was right. Because you are a good man Dean. Because you are righteous. Life is your reward. It is God's gift to you."

Dean growled and grasped Castiel by his trench coat. He back him up until he heard the satisfying crack of the Angel's back hitting the plastered wall of the convent. "To hell with his gift!" Dean growled. Castiel's eyes widened, then narrowed and if they were in another time, Dean would have found this actual reaction from the Angel hilarious.

"Hypocrite." He hissed. He tightened his hold on the Angel's clothing. "You tell me life is my gift? What kind of life is it when everybody I cared about is gone? You come here and preach to me like I'm the luckiest guy in the world! It's real easy to stand there and tell me I'm lucky. You got your heaven back. You got your precious father back. What the hell do I have huh? Everyone I love is dead!"

Castiel's face softened for the briefest of moments before sliding back into that expressionless mask. "Life is-"

Dean cut him off. "You say life is my gift one more time and I swear I'll punch you."

Castiel blinked at him. "You'll break your hand."

Dean stared at him for a long moment before pushing the Angel away with a small breath. He turned his back on the Angel. "I was finished." He repeated softly. "Ready to just lay down and die. Everyone is gone. Sam and Bobby were the only two left and they're dead."

"They are not."

Dean froze at those words. Heart hammering inside his chest, he slowly turned to face Castiel. "Cas," He said softly. "If this is your idea of finally gaining a sense of humor, this is not the time nor the place."

Castiel gave him a confused frown. "I do not understand."

"Dean rolled his eyes and stepped forward. "Bobby and Sam?"

"They are alive. Robert Singer is in a hospital here in Maryland."

Dean couldn't quell the hope he felt swelling inside of him. "But I saw him go down, Sam-Lucifer-" He trailed off.

Castiel nodded. "I healed him." He said simply. "After Michael defeated Lucifer, he was immediately called back to Heaven. I was no longer cut off. I healed him and left him at the hospital."

Dean nodded taking this information in. "And Sam?"

"He is lost." Castiel said and Dean frowned.

"You mean metaphorically or-"

"When Lucifer was cast back into Perdition Sam was still alive. Just barely, but alive. Your wounds were mortal." Castiel explained. "I had to heal you and get you to safety."

Dean glared. "So you chose me over my brother."

Castiel looked confused. "I had my orders." He replied. "You were my number one priority."

Dean shook his head. "You should have left me!" He growled.

"I could not." Castiel said. "I came back for Sam as soon I knew you were safe. When I arrived back here, he was already gone."

"Wait a minute," Dean said. "When you say gone you mean.."

"Someone or something had taken his body." Castiel turned away from him. "I have been searching, but I cannot sense him anywhere. Someone very powerful is blocking me from seeing him. But I know he is not dead. I would sense it." He looked back at Dean who was eyeing him strangely. "You cannot go searching for him."

Dean snorted. "The hell I can't." He turned to leave, pausing when Castiel spoke again.

"You have a bounty on your head Dean Winchester."

He shrugged. "Nothing new."

"Demons still walk this earth." Castiel said. "They are out for blood. I cannot protect you."

"Oh and your daughter can?" He asked with a frown. "Thanks for telling me you had a daughter Cas, which is all kinds of wrong by the way."

Castiel shook his head. "You are no good to your brother dead."

Dean paused his shoulders dropping as he realized the truth in those words. He glanced back up at the Angel. "Take me to Bobby."

Dean stared down at the man he considered a father with a mixture of sadness and relief.

"He is just sleeping." Castiel assured.

Dean stepped forward. "Bobby?" He whispered.

"He cannot hear you." Castiel explained. "It is safer this way."

Dean nodded and swallowed. "Does he know that I'm…"

"No." he answered. "For his own safety." Castiel glanced up. "We must go."

Dean frowned. "Wait just-" He trailed off as he realized he was back in Cleveland and standing in front of Grace's home. He sighed and glanced over at Castiel. "You're an ass you know that?"

"I will continue the search for your brother." Castiel said, ignoring the insult. "You will stay here until I tell you it is safe."

"And do what?" He asked, turning to face the Angel, only to find that he was gone.

"Dammit!"

Grace looked up from the book she was reading as she heard the front door being opened. She placed the book down and stood up as Dean stepped inside. "Are you…." She trailed and gasped when he turned to face her. She can see the instant change before he even opened his mouth. The hope in his eyes mixed along with the sadness.

"Hi." He greeted her simply.

She didn't say anything, just simply moved toward him and wrapped her arms around him in a comforting hug.

Dean tensed for a moment before hesitantly wrapping his arms around her. He soaked in her comfort, tears embarrassingly pooling in his eyes.

TBC


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

There was the same damn orange Tabby cat sitting on his chest when he woke up the next afternoon. He slid one eye open, unsurprised to see the cat watching him, assessing him.

He sighed heavily. "Get off me."

The cat merely meowed.

Dean cracked both eyes open as Grace knocked softly on the door and peeked inside.

"Hi." She said stepping all the way inside. She had a laundry basket filled with folded clothing in her arms. "Sorry to wake you, but I have your laundry." She placed the basket at the edge of his bed. She moved and picked up the cat. "Sorry," She said softly. "Clem likes visitors."

Dean slowly sat up in bed. "What time is it?"

"Twelve thirty." She answered. "I made lunch. It's on the stove." She turned to go.

"Hey Grace," Dean called softly.

She paused and turned to look at him.

He smiled at her. "Thanks. For the laundry."

She smiled back. "I'll be in the backyard if you need anything."

Dean watched her go, thankful and surprised he felt not near as awkward or embarrassed as he'd felt last night after his girl moment as he liked to refer to it.

He slid out of bed and stretched, feeling like a brand new man. Last night had been the first night he had actually slept through without the nightmares. Things were by no means sunshine and rainbows for him and he knew he still had a whole host of issues he still hadn't decided if he wanted to face or not, but he no longer wanted to die. Castiel had given him something he had lost long ago.

Hope.

Bobby was alive and so was Sam. He swallowed down the lump he felt forming in his throat from the sheer joy he felt from that knowledge. Sam was alive and Castiel was looking for him. He shook his head and let out a small chuckle as he looked around his current residence. He took a deep breath and stamped down the foolish urge he felt to go look for his brother. Cas had told him to wait and he would wait. For now.

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Grace hummed to herself as she pulled the weeds from the plant bed and tossed them into the basket next to her. She picked up her sheers and snipped the pieces of mint she needed. She wiped at her forehead. It was hot today. The sun was beating down heavily on her and she could feel a small bead of sweat slowly made its way down her neck. She sat back onto her knees with a small sigh, her thoughts turning

Something had changed last night. She smiled to herself. Things were better and she had a feeling her father had something to do with that. She knew she still had her work cut out for her, but she knew things will now be a little bit easier. She glanced up as the back door opened up and a clean and shaven Dean stepped onto small patio. Their eyes met and she smiled at him, noting how handsome he actually was.

"Hi." She greeted and he nodded at her.

"Hi." He greeted back, leaning against the post. He glanced around briefly. "Nice garden."

She smiled briefly at nervous compliment he had given her. "Thanks." She said. She leaned over and went back to snipping at the mint leaves. She placed those in her basket and glanced back up at him. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged as he sat down on the patio steps. "I'm okay." He answered briefly. He glanced away from her.

She nodded. "That's good." She fingered the sheers she held in her hands. She tilted her head to the side, regarding him silently.

"So," Dean said conversationally. "What does one do for fun around these parts?"

She gave him an amused smirk. "Well, I'm sure you know the city is around twenty minutes from here, but I wouldn't recommend going to the city again. For a while. Until Castiel says it's safe. You could go into town though." She held up her garden sheers. "Or you can help me?"

Dean gave her a look as if she'd grown two heads. "No thanks."

She shrugged and stood up, reaching for her basket as she did. She sat beside him on the porch. "About last night-"

"How about we not talk about that huh?" He interrupted his tone uncomfortable. "Or mention it ever again?"

Grace smiled softly at him. "Okay. I just figured with the whole drinking until you pass out, trying to get yourself killed on purpose and dirty beard transient look thing you had going on you'd want to finally, you know, talk about it."

Dean stared at her for a long moment before snorting. "I'm not really with the whole sharing feelings things. I'd like to keep my manliness to its highest height thank you."

Grace just nodded. "Okay." She tapped her fingers on her knees, patiently waiting for him to speak. She knew he would. She knew he wanted to. They were both quiet for a few moments.

Dean broke and spoke first. "People I care about. I thought were…they're alive."

She glanced up at him, surprised that he had spoken and she could tell by the expression on his face that he was surprised too. "That's wonderful Dean."

He nodded and turned away from her. He swallowed down the joy he felt from the mere thought of seeing Sammy again. "He's alive." He said quietly.

Grace looked surprised. "You mean Sam?"

He nodded again with a serious expression. "Cas is searching for him."

Grace smiled. "Then he will find him." She said simply.

Dean didn't respond and they both sat in a comfortable silence.

"Thanks." He said quietly. "For last night and for putting up with me."

Grace sighed. "You're welcome." She said. She stood up from her seat and picked her basket up. "I need to wash this sweat off of me." She turned to walk back inside and paused. "Castiel left you something in the driveway." She said over her shoulder.

Dean frowned. "What?"

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Dean stood in the driveway, wide eyed and drooling. This couldn't be true. It had to be fake. A hallucination. He stepped forward and put his hand on the object in front of him. His eyes slid closed as his hand touched the familiar smooth metal.

"My baby." He whispered a small smile coming onto his face. "My baby!"

Grace stood in the doorway an amused smile on her face as she watched him lean forward onto the hood of the car, his arm spread wide. "Uh, do you need time alone?" She asked from the doorway. Dean ignored her and moved to open the driver's side door. He slid into the driver's seat with a happy sigh. He smiled when he realized the keys were in the ignition. He took a deep breath and turned the key, sighing as his baby purred to life.

He ran his fingers across the steering wheel. "I know baby, I've missed you too." He said. He leaned forward and hugged the steering wheel. "It sounds like you could use some motor oil. Maybe even an oil change." He sat up and ran his fingers against the dash board. "Daddy's here to take care of you." He reached inside his glove box and pulled out a tape. He popped it into the tape deck and leaned back against his seat as Led Zepplin's _Ramble On _played through the speakers.

Things were kind of looking up.

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An hour later, Dean slipped back inside, his gun bag tucked tightly under his arm and another bag gripped tightly in his hands. He slowly made his way into his room and shut the door. He tossed both items onto the bed and sat down onto the bed with a sigh. He ran his fingers across the duffle bag. Sam's bag. He moved toward the zipper and moved to unzip it. He paused with a small frown. He sighed and grabbed the bag. He tossed it into the corner. He wasn't ready to deal with that quite yet.

"Meow."

He glanced up with a small frown as Clem hopped up onto the bed. "How do you keep getting in here?" He asked the cat.

Clem rubbed his body against Dean's arm, demanding attention.

Dean sighed heavily and ran his finger between the cat's ears, smiling softly when it meowed. "This is just between you and I." He murmured softly. The cat purred happily and Dean couldn't help the small smile he felt coming onto his face. "This isn't bad." He said softly. He frowned as Clem lifted his leg and began cleaning himself. "That's pretty gross." He said softly.

"Cat's are supposed to be therapeutic."

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned, surprised to see Cas standing at the foot of his bed. "Dammit Cas you need a bell or something." Dean complained. He shooed the cat away from him. "How the hell do you know about cats and therapy?"

Castiel shrugged slightly. "I read it somewhere. You are still here."

Dean nodded. "Still here like a good little boy." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Shouldn't you be out searching for Sam?"

"I was." Castiel said simply. "I had a location on where Sam was."

Dean frowned at him. "Why do I hear a but in there somewhere?"

"When I arrived at the location, they or it had moved Sam again. I cannot sense him any longer."

Dean turned away from the angel. "Where was the location?"

"Arizona. A desert there."

Dean turned to look back at Castiel. "What hell is in Arizona?"

Castiel's expression turned grave as he quoted the familiar words from the holy book.

"When the unclean spirit as gone out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest, and finding none it says. '_I will return to my house from which I came.'_ and when it comes, it finds the house swept and put in order. Then it goes and finds seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there. And the last state of that person is worse than the first."

Dean slowly blinked as Castiel finished the quote. He seriously thought he was done hearing confusing bible quotes. He mulled the words over in his mind, trying to decipher what Castiel had just quoted. He let out a small breath and shook his head. His mind felt too muddled to try and decipher anything. "I got nothing."

Cas looked as though he was about to say something, but didn't. "I must go." He suddenly said.

Dean's eyes narrowed as he stared at the Angel. "What are you hiding Cas?" He asked, his tone wary and a little angry. "I've gotten real good at reading the blank expressions on your face. I know you're hiding something."

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin when Castiel reached out and touched his shoulder.

"I will find Sam." Cas said simply, but the conviction in his voice was clear.

Dean blinked and the Angel was gone. He knew Cas was hiding something from him and by the grave expression on the Angel's usually blank face that it was something epic. Feeling suddenly morose, he sighed heavily and lied back against the bed. He drifted off to sleep, his last thoughts swirling with the words Cas had recited.

He woke up two hours later to the smell of something mouth watering drifted from the kitchen into his room. His stomach grumbled and he turned, nearly jumping out of his skin as he came face to face with the orange tabby. He slowly sat up and glared down at the offending cat. "You know, this obsession you have with me is really creeping me out." He said to the cat and the cat merely meowed. He sighed, rubbed the cat behind the ears then stood up to follow the enticing smells.

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She had this glow about her, but he just chocked it up to her being half angel.

Dean sat at the table as grace moved about the kitchen, fixing their plates. She was cute. Beautiful even. She had a petite frame and a cute little nose. Not to mention the beauty mark on her cheek and cherry red lips and long curly brown hair. It was her eyes that had him all hot and bothered though. Those deep chocolate eyes held knowledge, but also an innocence in them that had Dean feeling all kinds of wrong for even thinking about her this way. She was Cas's daughter and completely off limits. He was in no mood to be smote by the strange angel.

He shifted in his seat uncomfortably as she turned to smile at him briefly. "So," He started, drumming his fingers on the wooden dinner table. "How is it that Cas has a daughter? Which, leme tell yah, is all kinds of wrong."

Grace laughed a bit as she turned plates in hand. She placed his plate down in front of him and sat down with her own. "Well," She started softly. "It's a long story."

Dean nodded in understanding. He picked his fork up and dug into the mashed potatoes. He paused as the taste of the gravy exploded on his tongue. He didn't bother holding in his groan of pleasure. "It's good." He said and that was an understatement because this was the best mashed potatoes he's ever tasted in his entire life.

Grace smiled softly at him as she ate her own food. "Thanks."

They both ate in silence for a few moments and Dean was trying to control the impulse of shoveling food into his mouth. The pot roast was amazing and he was sure his attraction to Grace just went up a few notches.

"Angels are chosen by god to mate with humans." She said and Dean looked up in surprise.

"Not surprising." He said and she nodded.

"Most people believe we are descendants of fallen angels, but we aren't." She placed her fork down and wiped her mouth with her napkin before continuing. "We are their redeemers."

Dean looked surprised. "You mean.."

She nodded. "We save their souls." She pushed her plate away. "Of course you know that

Lucifer was not the only Angel cast into perdition. We help redeem them and return them to their grace."

Dean stared at her for a long moment. He shook his head, surprised at the revelation.

"Sounds like a hard job."

Grace smiled and shrugged slightly. "I'm used to it and I've always known I was different. My parents never hid that from me." She saw that he was finished and reached for his plate. "Do you want some dessert?" She asked. "I made cherry pie."

Dean sighed as he looked down at his hands. She made pie? He was screwed. "Yes, please."

She nodded and he watched as she pulled the pie out of the oven.

"So, your mom and Cas?" He asked, fishing for information.

Grace was quiet for a long moment as she cut two pieces of pie. He could tell by the way she seemed to tense that she wasn't in the mood for that story. "It's a very long story."

She repeated softly. "Do you want ice cream on your pie?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. Does he want ice cream on his pie? Did she know who she was talking to? "Yes." He replied, trying and failing at keeping the enthusiasm from his voice.

She nodded with an amused smile. She moved toward the freezer and pulled out a carton of ice cream. "So what did Castiel want?"

Dean started in surprise. "You knew he was here?"

She turned and placed his pie in front of him. "I always know when he's here." She turned to face him with her own piece of pie. She sat down across from him again.

Dean bit into his pie and paused in mid chew as once again, the flavor just exploded onto his tongue. He sighed to himself. "What else can you do exactly?"

She sighed herself as she answered. "Well, Nephilims are not anywhere near as strong or powerful as full angels. We can get hurt. We can die. We don't have all the amazing abilities as Angels with the exception of reading someone's mind, but only when that person's unconscious. Our senses are heightened more than an average human."

Dean dipped his spoon into his ice cream. "Sounds like you guys got the short end of the holy stick."

Grace laughed a bit as she nodded. "We are at the lower end of the heaven hierarchy, but we can redeem their fallen brothers. Full angels can't." She took a small bite of her pie. "Which is why most of them dislike us so much. They think we're abominations."

Dean snorted. "Yeah well, Angel's are assholes. The ones I've met anyway." He paused as he glanced at her. "Well, Cas isn't. Not anymore anyway." He paused again. "No offense."

She shrugged. "None taken." She watched as he finished off his dessert and pushed her half eaten pie toward him. She gave him an amused smile as his grin widened. "I can admit that some angels are high strung."

"Understatement." He said with a snort.

She laughed at that and repeated her earlier question. "So, what did my father want?"

Dean placed his fork down and sat back in his seat. "He had news about Sam." He trailed off and looked away from her. "He didn't find him."

Grace nodded in understanding. "He will." She said confidently.

Dean nodded. "His search isn't looking real good."

Grace nodded again and patiently waited for him to continue. He was silent for a few more moments, but she could clearly see the emotions flicker across his face. Anger, sadness, and then grief.

"I can't just sit here doing nothing." He finally burst out, frustration written all over his face. "Sammy's out there somewhere and here I am eating cherry pie like everything's great!"

Grace didn't bat an eyelash at his sudden outburst. She tilted her head in question. "What do you think you're supposed to do exactly?"

Dean glared at her. "He's my brother." He said as if that explained everything. "I'm supposed to be there for him. I'm supposed to take care of him. I'm supposed to be looking for him."

"What sense is it to place yourself in danger?" she asked.

"This is my life." Dean answered calmly. "I'm used to this life. I can't sit around with you protecting me."

"What good are you to your brother dead?" Grace asked softly.

Dean looked away from her, angry he didn't have a response.

Grace folded her hands into her lap as she leaned back against her chair. She once again patiently waited for him to continue.

Dean merely ignored her patient stare. He knew she was waiting for him to continue to commence with the share time, but he wasn't that guy. He wasn't into girl moments and he certainly already said too much. He moved to cross his arms in front of his chest and winced at the effort. Even though the stitches that were in his chest were gone and it was well onto it's way to healing, but considering his recent drunken moments and suicide missions, he hadn't let it heal the correct way. Now sometimes the healed skin felt painful and tight.

Concern masked Grace's face as she stood up from her chair. "You're in pain." She said softly. She leaned down in front of him and lifted his t-shirt, ignoring his protests. She ran her fingers across the raised skin, missing the way he tensed underneath her touch. "The skin is a little red." She said. She glanced up at him with the same concerned gaze. "How does it feel?"

Dean blinked down at her pretty little head, realizing that she, like her father, had issues with boundaries and space. "A little itchy and tight." He tensed when her fingers touched his skin again. "Uh…"

Grace, oblivious to his discomfort, stood up and made her way toward the fridge. She opened it and pulled out a glass jar. "I made this cream myself." She unscrewed the top as she moved back toward him. She lifted his t-shirt once again ignoring the space issue. "This should help with the itching and loosen the skin." She dipped two fingers inside and applied some to his injury.

"Smells like lemons." Dean commented, slowly relaxing, getting used to her gentle touch.

She nodded. "It's lemon peels and lilac crushed together."

They were both quiet for a long moment until she spoke again. "You don't have to feel useless while waiting here." She said softly. She gave him a half smile. "There's plenty of things around here that needs to be fixed."

Dean leered at her. "Making me your own personal slave boy huh?"

Grace blushed as she placed his t-shirt back down. She cleared her throat. "You can start by helping me wash the dishes."

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2 days later

Dean worked quietly and meticulously cleaning his guns in his bedroom. He picked up his nine millimeter and removed the clip, glancing over as Clem climbed onto the bed. "You again." He said, although with a more friendly manner.

The cat meowed at him and he sighed.

"You're the strong silent type." He said as he picked up the oil for his gun, a little bit annoyed that he's currently trying to hold a conversation with a cat. Maybe a little bit more annoyed that he doesn't really mind at all. Grace had kept him busy for the past two days, repairing broken fences and the shed door. Not to mention the weeding, he drew the line at planting things. Still, the manual labor has helped him keep his mind off things and it certainly lessened the itch he had felt to go out and look for his brother.

If only for just a tiny bit.

Then there was Grace. She was an interesting character. All soft and light, but still a little annoying because she's always trying to secretly force him into girl moments where he talked about his feelings and his past. She didn't seem to understand that he wasn't in the mood to talk about anything concerning himself. Not now. Not later. Not ever. He put the oiled rag down and grabbed the clip. If she wasn't so damn cute he'd- His thoughts trailed off as he heard the doorbell suddenly rang.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and frowned as he realized that it was one in the morning. Who would be ringing the doorbell so late? Dean slowly for her newly cleaned gun and cocked it back.

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"Please, I need you." The voice hissed quietly.

Dean frowned as he watched Grace tighten the belt on her robe before leading the owner of that voice inside her home.

His hand tightened on his gun and he moved further into the living room to get a better look. "Grace?"

Both Grace and the strange woman turned toward him.

"Dean-" She said softly.

"What's going on?" He asked, keeping his eyes trained on the strange woman who was watching him with an intensity he was all too familiar with. He felt the hair on the back of his neck raise. His eyes narrowed and he lifted his gun as the strange woman's eyes suddenly flashed black.

TBC

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	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Pure white hot anger flared in Dean as he stared at the demon. He cocked his gun and lifted it higher.

Grace moved in front of him, placing her hands onto his chest. "Dean," she said very softly. "put the gun down."

Dean ignored her, instead he stared at the black eyed bitch with narrowed eyes. "Move." He said calmly.

Grace glanced over her shoulder at the woman who was eyeing Dean with a snarl on her face. She glanced back at Dean with pleading eyes. "Dean, please just-"

"She may know something about my brother." He cut in angrily.

Grace shook her head. "No. She doesn't." She slowly raised her hand and placed it onto his arm. "She isn't here for this." She stared up at him, but he only ignored her, glaring holes at the demon. "Dean!" She yelled.

He blinked and glanced down at her. He sighed at the silent pleading in her expression. He slowly lowered the gun. "Fine." He bit out. "But one wrong move and I end you."

Grace glanced at the woman. "Please have a seat. I'll be with you in a moment." She gently pushed Dean into the hallway. She glared up at him. "You need to behave."

He glared right back. "Me? You're the one letting demons inside your house like it's a regular day at the races!"

Grace glared at him. "She's a fallen!" She hissed angrily. "She is here to redeem herself and you have no right to judge or threaten anyone who's here for that reason."

She pushed at his chest again and Dean stumbled back in surprise. He'd never seen Grace with this much anger and it was a little bit of a turn on.

As quick as the anger was there, it was gone just as fast. Her face softened. "You have to behave." She said softly. "I understand your anger, but this is my work. I have to help her."

Dean glowered down at her. "Fine." He said softly. "But I get to watch."

8

Dean peaked around the corner and watched as Grace lit two large white candles and placed them onto the table. His eyes turned toward the demon sitting on the couch, patiently waiting. He glared.

Grace turned toward her current charge with a soft smile. "Why are you here?" She asked.

The woman looked down at her hands with a sad frown. "I turned my back on our father. I questioned his motives. I couldn't see why he wanted us to bow to humans. To me, they were imperfect. I've seen terrible things. I've done terrible things."

Grace nodded in understanding. "What do you want?" She asked softly.

The woman looked up at Grace. "Forgiveness." She whispered.

Grace moved closer and stared into the woman's eyes. "Are you truly repentant?"

"Yes." She whispered.

Grace nodded once. "Do you accept the holy trinity?"

"With love in my heart." The woman answered.

Grace nodded again and leaned forward, placing a hand on the fallen's forehead and the other on her cheek. She closed her eyes and murmured one word.

A bright light emanated from her forehead and the woman gasped from the warmth she felt fill her damned soul. The light became brighter, blindingly so.

Dean shielded his eyes from the blinding light that emanated from the living room. He blinked and watched in awe as Grace redeemed the demon.

She closed her eyes, giving into the feeling as the light enveloped her whole vessel and her grace returned to her.

Grace watched as the vessel collapsed back against the couch. She sighed and leaned down, arranging the vessel more comfortably on the couch. "You can come out now." She said over her shoulder. She glanced up as Dean made his way back into the living room. She glanced back down at her charge, placing the pillow comfortably under the woman's head.

"So," Dean started as he came to stand behind her. "That was pretty epic."

Grace snorted. "Thanks." She said softly. She stood up and turned to face him. She watched as he shoved his gun in his jeans. "You have questions."

Dean glanced down at the unconscious woman. "She alive?"

Grace nodded.

"So, that demon-"

"Fallen." Grace corrected.

"Fallen," Dean said. "It's going back to heaven?"

"Yes." Grace answered.

He raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

She nodded.

Dean crossed his arms in front of his chest. "So all it had to do was ask for forgiveness and it gets it's wings back?"

Grace gave him an amused smile. "Do you think asking for forgiveness is that easy?"

Dean huffed out a laugh. "Apparently it is."

Grace sighed and shook her head. "You're wrong." She said softly. "Asking for forgiveness is never easy." She said. "Especially for them."

Dean looked away from her pretty face and down at the now human woman. "How do you know they really want to be saved?"

"Oh," Grace said softly. "I know."

Dean looked back at her. "What if they're lying?"

"I would know. They wouldn't come here if they didn't want to be saved." She glanced down at the woman. "It's about choice Dean. It's always been about choice." She looked up at him. "Why do you think Michael needed your permission to use you as his vessel? Same goes for Lucifer and Sam. It's choice. It was your choice to say yes. It's why god gave us free will."

Dean sighed heavily and glanced back down at the woman. He glanced back at Grace and slowly smiled. "Well alright then."

88

Castiel stared out at the beautiful scenery from on top of Mingus Moutains in Arizona. His search for Sam had gone cold. He held his hand up and closed his eyes, pausing as he felt a strong presence behind him.

"Hello brother." He slowly turned to face Michael, who was leaning casually against a large rock.

"Hello Castiel." He said. "It seems your daughter is back in business."

Castiel nodded once. "That is good."

"Always." Michael said moving closer. "I see you've put my vessel in her charge." He tilted his head to the side. "How is Dean, by the way."

"He is alive." Castiel answered. "He is well."

Michael nodded once and glanced back out the open scenery. He spoke after a few moments of silence. "Your obsession with the humans are amusing at best."

Castiel glanced at his brother. "Father doesn't seem to think so."

Michael glanced at Castiel. "No." He agreed. "No he doesn't." He clasped his hands in front of himself. "He gave you a mission. Something important." He glanced sideways at his younger brother. "What I don't understand is why I know nothing about it."

Castiel didn't respond, merely continued to stare back out at the sky. The archangel nodded once and turned to go.

"Be safe brother."

"Michael?" Castiel called. "Do you happen to know where Samuel Winchester is?"

The archangel paused and slowly turned to face Cas. "That sounds like an accusation."

Castiel shook his head. "No. You are more powerful than I. I was simply asking if you sensed him anywhere on earth."

"No." Michael answered. "I do not know where Sam Winchester is. Nor do I care." He turned and disappeared from sight.

Castiel stared at the spot his brother had been. He tilted his head to the side as he felt a familiar pull. He too disappeared.

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Grace swallowed as she watched the muscles in Dean's back bunch in the most interesting way as he hammered away on the wooden gate for her clover patch. She took a sip of her ice tea as and watched as a bead of sweat poured down Dean's back and escaped into his pants.

She sighed heavily and silently asked god for the strength to not have such thoughts about this man that she was suppose to take care of. She knew she couldn't help herself. Being around a man like Dean for the past month and a half does something to a woman such as herself.

Dean Winchester was…he was…well look at him. He was also funny, although sometimes cruel. He was kind, when he didn't think anyone was watching. He had a huge heart with so much love. Especially when it came to his brother.

She bit her lip as Dean glanced over his shoulder at her. She smiled and waved. "Are you thirsty?" She asked.

Dean sat back on his knees. "A drink would be nice." He said softly.

Grace smiled, reached over and poured him a glass of iced tea. She made her way over toward him and handed him the glass. "The gate looks good."

Dean nodded as he down his drink. "You'd think you could just hire someone to do this."

Grace smiled. "Why hire someone when I can just use you."

He smirked at her. "I think you just like to see me without my shirt on."

Grace froze a comeback suddenly stuck in the back of her throat. "I'm, going to clean out my attic. Inside." She turned to go before he could see the blush blooming on both of her cheeks.

Dean chuckled as he watched Grace make her way back into the house. He tilted his head to the side as he watched the slow swing of her hips. He sighed to himself and shook his head. "Off limits Dean." He muttered to himself. "Off limits."

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Grace hummed to herself as she pushed the box to goodwill to the other side of the room. She glanced over at Dean, who had joined her shortly after making her blush. Instead of stacking the boxes like she asked him to do, he was busy digging through one of the boxes, pulling out a handful of photos. She crawled over toward him and settled in next to him. "You're nosey."

"Call me curious." He murmured softly. He held up a baby picture. "This is you?"

She nodded. "I was three months."

He nodded. "Cute baby."

She smiled as he held up the next picture. "That's my mother." She said softly.

"You look like her." Dean said softly. He moved onto the next picture. This time, showing her mother and a blonde haired man holding a small baby. "Is that-"

"Yes." She said softly.

Dean grinned. "Cas looked like a ken doll." He joked.

Grace laughed. "Mom loved him." She said softly. "She was so in love with him. More than love. Almost as if she was under a spell." She stared down at the picture, her thoughts swirling around the distant past.

Dean glanced back down at the picture. "What do you mean, like some Angel hoodoo spell?"

Grace frowned at him in confusion. "There isn't such a thing as an angel hoodoo spell."

Dean didn't look like he believed her and Grace merely rolled her eyes and took the pictures from his hands. She placed them back into the box and closed it up. She pushed it to the side and stood up, pausing when Dean suddenly grabbed her wrist.

Grace tensed and she felt her face heat up and flush an embarrassing red. She gently removed her wrist from his grip and stepped back. "I have to go into town for a few things." She said softly.

Dean smirked up at her. "I'll go." He slowly stood up. "I have to get a few things myself."

Grace nodded once, unable to speak. There it was again. That intense silence that was happening more and more as the days went by. Dean would tower over her, simply staring down at her and Grace was usually always left blushing at the end of it all.

It was quite pathetic.

"So," She said, breaking the silence. "I'll go write a list."

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"Dean is not here."

"Ahh!" Grace screamed in shock as she turned to face Castiel who stood behind her.

She clutched her chest. "Castiel, you startled me."

He tilted his head. "You did not sense me?" He asked.

She frowned at him. "I was distracted." She turned back to dusting the pictures on the fire place mantle. "Dean went into town for me. He'll be back soon."

Castiel was quiet for a long moment. "You're troubled."

Grace paused in her dusting to glance over her shoulder. "I am not."

"You dust profusely when something is troubling. Your mother used to do the same when she was troubled."

Grace sighed heavily. "I'm fine."

"You're not."

She sighed heavily. "I fear my thoughts have crossed boundaries."

"I do not understand." Castiel said and she nodded.

"Of course you don't." She turned away from him to continue dusting. "It's Dean," She started. "Being here for him its…he's…I'm…" She huffed out a small growl. "Forget it."

Castiel was quiet for so long that she thought he had disappeared. She glanced over her shoulder to see him staring at a picture of her mother. "Father?"

"You are attracted to him." He said not bothering to glance at her.

As always, Grace flushed a deep red. "It's inappropriate." She said softly, not bothering to deny it.

"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear.." He quoted softly.

Grace frowned deeply at him. "I don't…There isn't…why would you say that?"

Castiel finally glanced up at her. "The words were meant to bring comfort."

"Well it didn't. It's made me more nervous actually." She huffed and tossed the duster onto the floor. "I'm failing." She said, sitting down.

Castiel leaned over and placed a comforting hand onto her shoulder. "You are not failing." He said softly. "You're helping Dean in more ways than you think."

Grace lifted her head to respond only to see that Castiel had disappeared. She frowned realizing he hadn't explained the real reason for his visit.

TBC


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"What's it like to hunt?"

Dean looked up from the gun he was reassembling from pure boredom. He paused for a long moment before answering. "It isn't so bad." He said softly. He picked up the gun coil and inserted. "Get to see the country. Shooting things is fun. Not to mention all of the great se..." he trailed off with a slight smile. "It has its perks."

Grace rubbed Clem behind his ears as he curled into her lap. "Perks?" she repeated softly. "It must be hard, traveling around so much. Not settling down in one place."

Dean shrugged as he carefully placed in the recoil spring. "Not really. I'm used to this life. Been doing it since I was four years old. That car out there is my home. Besides I wasn't alone I had…" He trailed off again before continuing. "I had Sammy with me."

Grace stared at him. As closed off as he was. As good as he was with his poker face; the emotion and pain were always clearly evident in his eyes whenever he spoke of Sam.

"You two were close." She said and she knew that close probably didn't begin to describe the relationship Dean had with his younger brother. She had felt their bond when he first was went into her care. The love Dean had for Sam ran deeper than a brotherhood. He needed his brother. Probably more than he needed air.

She watched as he tried and failed to mask his emotions. Dean shoved the slider back into place harder than necessary.

"Yeah." He answered simply, obviously not wanting to discuss more.

Grace glanced down at Clem then back up at her charge. "What do you plan to do when Sam comes back?"

Dean paused in thought. He slowly smiled wistfully as he answered. "I'm going to find the biggest bottle of whiskey and get drunk with my brother." He grabbed the screw driver and screwed a screw into place. "Then get back to the job."

Grace wasn't all that surprised by his answer. She may not have known Dean for too long, but she knew he breathed hunting. Dean was a creature of habit, but there was something there. Something he wasn't telling her. "Do you like hunting?" She asked instead.

Dean shrugged. "It's all I know." He answered. "It's what I'm good at, without fucking things up completely."

She smiled softly. "That's not true. You're good at weeding and fixing things."

He snorted at that. "No matter how much you compliment me on my good home skills, I won't be your slave boy forever."

Grace giggled and he smiled softly at her.

"What about you?" He asked and she raised an eyebrow.

"What about me?" She asked.

Dean placed the gun down slowly. "Well all these weeks you're having me answer questions about myself. Trying to get me to have girl moments and share time, but yet you share nothing about yourself."

She frowned at him. "I've shared some things." She shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "Besides, my life isn't that interesting."

Dean stared at her for a long moment before looking back down at his gun. "Hmm." He said softly. "Makes you kind of wonder just what interesting is to you." He picked it up and continued to work in silence.

Grace silently watched him, suddenly feeling a strange sense foreboding.

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_There was nothing but darkness._

"_Raging storms, evil gods they are, ruthless demons who were created in perdition." _

_Grace turned as the somewhat familiar words were whispered into her ear. She frowned as all she was faced with was darkness. The hairs on the back of her neck began to rise as she sensed a serious evil within that darkness. She slowly blinked and looked down at her clasped hands. She knew she was dreaming. _

"_Workers of evil." The same voice whispered. "They lift up the head to evil, every day to evil destruction to work." _

Grace sat up in bed with a loud gasp. She glanced around her darkened bedroom, her heart thudding wildly into her chest. She quickly reached over and switched the bedside lamp on, shuddering and blinking as the remnants of the nightmare suddenly faded away.

The terror didn't fade though. She glanced around quickly, clutching her chest, willing herself to calm down. She needed Clem. He always calmed her down after a nightmare.

"Clem?" She whispered softly. She peeked over the side of her bed, frowning when she noticed he wasn't in his cat bed.

He must be in Dean's room. She rolled her eyes. "Traitor." She whispered. Swallowing hard, she climbed out of her bed and hurried over toward her armoire.

She pulled it open and reached inside; pulling out the small gold cross her mother had given her when she was sixteen. She palmed it and turned to make her way into the living room.

Once in the living room, she immediately kneeled in front of the living room table. She reached underneath, grabbed one candle and the box of matches. She lit the candle and slowly let out the breath she'd been holding. Grasping the cross in both hands, she leaned forward and closed her eyes.

The words and images floated through her mind and she shuddered, praying harder.

She prayed for strength. She prayed for clarity and understanding. She prayed for protection from whatever evil she knew was coming their way. She swallowed and prayed harder, screaming loudly when someone suddenly touched her shoulder.

She turned, surprised to see an exhausted looking Dean standing over her.

Dean raised an eyebrow at her reaction to his touching her. "You okay?"

Grace sighed heavily as she looked away from him. She had worked so hard to calm down and now she was riled up again. "What are you doing up?" She asked.

"Couldn't sleep." He answered with a shrug. "Plus Clem was scratching at the door so damn hard I had no choice but to let him out."

Just as he mentioned Clem, he suddenly appeared by her side, meowing and curling himself up onto her lap. He purred as she gently scratched behind his ears. Her hands shook and she hoped Dean couldn't see them in the dim light of the candle.

"What's with the candle?" Dean asked softly.

"I was praying." Grace explained. She glanced down at Clem. "I had a nightmare."

Dean kneeled down in front of her, an amused expression on his face. "You pray when you have a nightmare?"

She could hear the amusing teasing tone in his voice and she frowned at him. "I pray when I have this type of nightmare." She shuddered again from the pure evilness she felt. "I think it was more than just a simple nightmare. It was…it was….bad." She didn't elaborate because she didn't want to worry him.

Dean reached over and grasped the small cross she held. "Do you think he hears you?" He asked a little sarcastically.

"He hears everyone Dean." She titled her head a little. "Haven't you ever prayed?"

"No." He lied. He didn't bother telling her about the time he prayed to god to keep his father alive. Or the time he prayed for help with his brother. Both times he was ignored.

"I think it's all bullshit if you ask me."

Grace looked down at Clem with a soft sigh. "I'm not here to help you repair your faith." She said after a long pause.

Dean feeling he had offended her merely sighed as he felt a wave of guilt for his words. "Sorry." He whispered.

She smiled at him. "Apology accepted."

"So," Dean said, reaching out to pet Clem. "What else do you pray for?"

"Peace." She answered.

Dean snorted. "Figures."

"Clarity. Strength-" She paused for a moment. "You."

Dean looked surprised and slightly amused. "You pray for me?" he asked.

Grace, suddenly feeling strangely shy, looked down at Clem. "Of course," She answered. "why wouldn't I?"

Dean merely shrugged. He reached out and petted Clem again, their hands brushing as he did. "What do you pray for?"

"For your brother's safe return." She said softly. "To ease your nightmares."

Dean looked slightly embarrassed. "You know about those?"

"Of course I do." She answered quietly. "It's the reason you're awake now isn't it?"

He frowned. "No." He said, sounding offended. He sighed when she raised an eyebrow at him. "Maybe."

"You don't have to be embarrassed." Grace noted sagely. "It's completely understandable given how close you are with Sam. It's natural to be plagued with worries and nightmares."

"Nightmares doesn't begin to cover it." He suddenly blurted.

Grace tilted her head as she waited for him to continue.

Dean didn't looked as though he was ready for share time, but the more she stared at him, the more he was creepily reminded of the piercing stare of Cas. The only difference being her eyes held a concern and a softness that Castiel's usual blank expression lacked. He looked away from her with a heavy sigh.

"I keep…." He trailed off before continuing. "This is driving me nuts." He admitted softly. "The thought of not knowing whether or not Sammy is…He's…if he's…" He couldn't finish what he wanted to say and he looked up at Grace with a slight panic.

Grace wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the way he suddenly tensed. She ran her hand soothingly down his back, silently urging him to relax. She already knew what his fears were. She had a feeling he knew whatever had taken his brother was quite evil and that Sam was more than likely in a lot of danger.

"I keep…." He trailed off before continuing. "This is driving me nuts." He admitted softly. "The thought of not knowing whether or not Sammy is…He's…if he's…" He couldn't finish what he wanted to say and he looked up at Grace with a slight panic.

Grace wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the way he suddenly tensed. She ran her hand soothingly down his back, silently urging him to relax. She already knew what his fears were. She had a feeling he knew whatever had taken his brother was quite evil and that Sam was quite possible in a lot of danger. She went against her instincts and didn't offer any words of comfort. He didn't have to say anything. She could feel the desperation coming off of him in waves.

Pushing his pride to the side, Dean wrapped his arms around her, taking the comfort she so willingly offered.

"I can't lose him again." he whispered.

Grace didn't mention the nightmare she had. She just squeezed him tighter. "I know." She whispered.

888

Dean kept his arms around Grace for a long moment, letting her soft voice lull him into comfort. It seemed that no matter how hard he resisted, he always ended up in a girl moment with her. He was sure it was some Angel hoodoo spell she had over him.

Not even to mention that she smelled awesome and Dean suddenly realized that his thoughts were going into dangerous territory. It was then that he realized the warmth of her small wandering hands on his back.

"Gracie?" He whispered. He pulled away from her embrace, noticing her flushed expression for the first time. He stared at her. Really looked at her again like he had been doing for the past few weeks. "I have prayed." He suddenly whispered.

Grace looked up at him with a knowing smile. "I know." She said.

He snorted. "It didn't make much of a difference."

Still, she smiled. "It did. Just maybe not in the ways you'd think."

He gave her wry smile. "You have an answer for everything huh?"

She laughed. "Yes."

Her face brightened when she laughed he noted. His eyes slid toward her rose red lips and back again. Before he could fully think through what it was he was doing, his head was already leaning down. His lips brushed against her own briefly.

Grace swallowed hard, letting out a small breath as she pulled away from him. "Dean-" She trailed off and reached out when he tried to move away.

"Sorry." He muttered. "I'm sorry I-" He trailed off when she suddenly pulled him down for a deep kiss.

As soon as her lips touched his own, it was as if a supernova went off behind his eyes. Dean wasted no time in opening his mouth, silently inviting her hot tongue to slide in against his own.

8888

The logical part of her brain told her that this was wrong. But the other part told her that Dean had an exquisite mouth. He knew exactly how to move his tongue against her own He knew exactly how to hold her. Her arms wrapped around his neck as their kiss deepened even further. She moaned as he pulled her flush against her body.

"Is this okay?" He breathed against her lips before leaning down to kiss her neck.

Grace blinked slowly as he gently bit and nipped at her neck. She moved her hands to rest onto his shoulders. "It's fine." She breathed quietly. She brought his mouth up against her own again. She kissed him softly gasping in surprise as his arms suddenly tightened around her. She pulled away from his mouth with a nervous laugh. She looked at Dean who's eyes were dark with obvious lust.

She stood up and reached for his hand. "Come on."

888

Feeling confused at the sudden loss of soft lips, Dean looked up when Grace suddenly stood up. "Grace?" He looked at her outstretched hand knowing what was going to happen if he took it.

'Off limits.' his mind whispered traitorously when he took her offered hand. Dean ignored his inner voice and gripped her hand tightly in his own and followed her into her bedroom.

888

What was she doing?

Grace glanced over her shoulder as she moved about the bedroom, placing the items she had used to pray back where they belonged. Her heart nearly pounded out of her chest and she idly wondered if Dean could hear it what with it beating so loudly. She glanced over her shoulder again. Dean was standing still as a statue in her doorway where she had left him. She swallowed and smiled at him nervously.

What was she doing?

She was supposed to be helping him and this certainly wasn't helping him. She reached over toward the switch on the wall and dimmed the brightness of her bedroom, nearly jumping out of her skin when strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist.

"Sorry." Dean murmured against her ear.

"Startled me." She placed her hands on top of his arms as she once again asked herself if this was the right decision. She could feel his warmth slowly seep in behind her as well as his muscled chest against her back strong and solid.

"You're kind of trembling." He commented after a long moment.

Grace laughed and turned in his arms. "I'm nervous." She said. She glanced up at him. His eyes were heavy lidded, dark with lust. His lips were red and swollen from kissing earlier. She pulled him down for another sweet kiss, theirs tongues brushing gently against each other.

Dean groaned low in his throat and tightened his arms around her waist, walking backward toward her large bed. Grace pulled away from his mouth, long enough to reach down and remove the t-shirt he was wearing. She took a moment to stare at his bare chest, her eyes sliding toward the familiar pentagram just below his shoulder. She leaned forward and pressed her lips onto it, smiling at his surprised intake of breath. She pulled him down for another quick kiss before pulling away.

"Your father won't smite me for this will he?" Dean suddenly blurted.

Grace laugh, his question breaking the nervous tension inside of her. "No." She answered softly. She moved to unbutton the pajama shirt she wore. She let it slide down her arms and onto the floor. "He likes you."

Dean's eyes slid to her bra covered breast and he sighed heavily. "Suddenly I don't care about the smiting."

Grace giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. They resumed the hot kissing and Dean followed her lead as she moved onto her bed, pulling him on top of her.

She moaned as his hand brushed against her breast. She tilted her head back as his lips moved down toward her neck and she gasped in surprise as his hand was suddenly _there. _Her body shook as his fingers slid against her skin. It had been too long since she's felt this kind of pleasure and with the way Dean was touching her, she was unsure if she wouldn't even get to the actual sex.

Her legs slowly spread wider the longer Dean touched her. She whimpered as his mouth obscenely sucked on her tongue. Her hips moved against his hand and she could feel the beginnings of her orgasm.

She pulled away from his mouth, moaning his name as she fell apart under his talented hands. The sudden rush of pleasure a shock to her usually calm nerves.

"Oh." She whispered, shuddering as his fingers brushed against her one last time. She lay there, eyes closed, panting heavily. She smiled as she felt him kiss the side of her cheek. She opened her eyes, unsurprised at the lust filled smirk on his face.

"I've been wondering what you look like when you come."

Grace snorted as she flushed a deep red. She placed her hand on his cheek. "Just kiss me."

Dean's face softened as he readily complied.

888

A while later, they both lay in her bed deeply sated. Grace could hear his heartbeat as she pressed her ear against his chest. She idly traced the tattoo with her finger. She could feel exhaustion begin to creep in and she sighed heavily.

"Hey Gracie?"

"Hmm?" She whispered.

"What did you dream about?"

She was quiet for a long moment before answering. "Something terrible." She murmured. "Something evil is here."

Dean could hear the tremble in her voice as she answered and he sighed heavily. He knew what he had to do.

He had to go and see Bobby.

TBC


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Dean's arm was falling asleep.

He slowly turned onto his side, gently removing his arm from underneath Grace's neck. He sat up and turned to watch her sleep. He smiled as he watched her sigh softly. Last night had been everything he had imagined it to be, and he rolled his eyes at how much of a girl he was turning into. The sex was possibly he best sex he's ever experience in his long life. Dean idly wondered when Cas was going smite him for sullying his daughter. Dean rolled his eyes at that. His thought sounded ridiculous. He watched her for a moment longer, fighting the urge to run his fingers through her soft curls. He sighed as he felt the beginnings of desire start low in his stomach. He knew this wasn't his usual get some and get gone and that scared the hell out of him.

He reached for his jeans and his t-shirt, slid them on and made his way into the kitchen.

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"I reached for you and you weren't there."

Dean froze as Grace's soft voice reached his ears. He glanced over his shoulder. She stood in the doorway, hair tousled and eyes sleepy. The silk robe she wore was loose and falling down her shoulder.

"Couldn't sleep." He explained holding up a beer bottle.

Grace nodded offering him a small hesitant smile. She sidled up toward him. "Are you alright?" She asked softly. She reached out and touched his arm.

Dean felt himself relax instantly, the calm asserting itself over him as if he had drank five beers instead of one. "I have to go see Bobby." He explained.

"Okay." She said with a nod and he didn't bother to fight his surprise.

Grace shrugged. "I knew it was coming sooner or later." she plucked the bottle from his fingers and took a tiny sip. "So, when do we leave?"

"We?" he repeated.

Grace gave him a look. "Yes we." She stressed. "You're still in danger, and I was given very strict orders from my superior to protect you."

Dean looked as though he was going to protest, but she shut him up with her lips on his own. Protests forgotten, Dean failed at holding in the groan of pleasure as his tongue brushed against her own.

She pulled away with a small sigh. "My grace will protect you."

Dean leaned his forehead against her own. "I can't convince you otherwise huh?"

Grace didn't answer, just simply brushed her hand on the front of his jeans, smiling at his large intake of breath. "Back to bed?" She suggested quietly.

Dean was already off of the stool, grabbing her hand as he pulled her down the hall toward the bedroom.

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"Thank you so much for looking after Clem Ms. Bricks." Grace said as she handed over the cat bag.

Ms. Bricks smiled at Grace. "It's no trouble at all dear." She winked as she glanced over Grace's shoulder at Dean who was waiting impatiently in his baby. "It's nice to see you've opened up to someone."

Grace glanced over her shoulder with a small blush. "Yeah. Umm, I better go. Bye Clem." She said with a wave. The cat merely meowed a her.

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To say the drive was a little awkward was the understatement of the year. Grace was feeling shy all of a sudden and Dean didn't seem like he was in the mood for small talk. She winced to herself as the loud rock music blasted in her ears. They were on I-90 now, driving for about an hour and a half and so far the only thing she had said to him was 'do you want some gum?'

She glanced over at him, smiling a bit as she watch him softly sing along to the music. He was in his element, she realized obviously happy to be on the road again. She was surprised at how happy she was for him. Before she knew what she was doing, she leaned against the seat and kissed him softly on the cheek.

Dean looked startled as he glanced at her. He grinned at her and pulled her in for a quick kiss on the lips. Grace smile widened and she glanced out at the long stretch of road. She blinked as she felt sudden exhaustion overtake her. She turned onto her side and closed her eyes, sighing as the loud music suddenly lowered.

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Grace stared out at the clear blue waters, a soft serene smile on her face. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as she felt the warmth of the sun on her face.

"_Grace." _

She ignored the familiar buzzing of that soft firm voice. The water lapped at her toes and her smile widened from the coolness of it. Her eyes slowly opened and she blinked at the bright sun, a wholeness filling her. She smiled against the brightness of the sun, it's warmth heating her skin. Her smile slowly faded as a dark shadowed suddenly loomed over her, blocking out the sun. Terror suddenly filled her as she tried to see the face of the shadow above her, but she could see nothing but darkness. Her eyes widened as the shadowed figure's hand reached out to touch her.

Grace shot up from her troubled sleep with a loud gasp. She clutched her chest as she glanced around in panic, noticing that the car had stopped. They were in a gas station she realized and she glanced around again to try and spot Dean. She slipped out of the car and hurriedly made her way across the lot toward the bathroom.

She opened the door, thanking god that it was clean. She quickly closed it behind her and locked the door. She leaned against it and closed her eyes. She breathed in deep as she tried to calm her nerves. Her heart hammered against her chest so loudly she could hear it.

She shivered as the remnants of the dream touched the edges of her mind. Terror once again filled her and she fought the strong urge to call for her father. "Remember your training." She whispered out loud. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to calm her frayed nerves. She breathed in and out for a few moments before she slowly felt herself relax.

She moved to switch the faucet on and placed her hands under running water. She rinsed her face off, sighing as the cold water hit her cheeks. She switched the water off and stared at herself in the mirror. The color had returned to her and her eyes looked less wild. She grabbed a napkin and patted down her face. "You're okay." She whispered to herself.

88

Dean was back at the car, pumping the gas and eating a burrito. He waved at her as she made her way over to him. "Hey." He said softly. "I got you some lunch. Hope you like chicken salad."

She smiled briefly at him as she climbed back into the impala. She did like chicken salad, but at the moment she didn't have an appetite. "Where are we?" She placed the salad in her lap and opened it. She picked at it for a few seconds before closing it with a sigh.

Dean glanced briefly at her. "Somewhere in Indiana." He answered as he started up the car and pulled out of the station.

She glanced at the time surprised to see that they had been driving for four hours now. "Sorry I slept so long."

Dean shrugged and smiled slightly. "No big deal." He said with a teasing tone. "You were up all night."

Grace felt herself flush at his innuendo and she huffed out a small laugh.

Dean's teasing smirk changed into an all out grin. He reached over and gently squeezed her thigh. "You okay?" He asked. "You seem a little down."

"I'm okay." She answered. She glanced out the window then back at him. "Tell me about Bobby."

If Dean noticed the sudden change of subject, he didn't show it. He smiled slightly as he spoke. "Bobby is like a father to me and Sammy…"

Grace let herself be calmed and lulled by the familiarity of Dean's deep soft voice. She asked questions here and there and it was clear that their was a deep love for the older man. She sucked up the familiar feeling and the tightness in her chest eased.

88

They were still in Indiana when it happened. Dean was in the middle of singing stairway to heaven when the car suddenly sputtered to halt.

"Dean…."

Dean frowned as he glanced over at Grace. "Okay." He said calmly. "This happens once every few years." He explained as he moved to turned the ignition. Nothing happened. He sighed heavily and tried again. The engine sputtered then died. He growled and slammed his fist against the dashboard. "Son of a bitch!"

Grace merely sighed and shrugged out of her jacket as the humid heat of the day began to seep into the car. "It's so hot." She said quietly. They were still in Indiana and the humidity was beginning to suffocate her. She put her hair up into a bun with a sigh, glancing over at Dean who was shrugging out of his own jacket with a few grumbled curses.

Dean tossed his jacket into the back and glanced over at her with a sigh. "Sorry."

Grace shrugged slightly. "It's perfectly fine to be frustrated."

Dean grimaced. "I'm beyond frustration." He said as leaned over and popped the hood. He climbed out as she started rolling her window down. She leaned back against the passenger seat with a small sigh as she watched Dean lift the hood.

88

"Why does Michael want us to meet all the way out in the desert?" Haniel complained. "I've got sand in my shoes."

"Time and again you forget you can avoid the sand in your shoes." Jophiel said with amusement. "I think the desert is beautiful." Jophiel said.

"You think everything is beautiful." Zadkiel said with a small smile.

Jophiel shrugged. "Of course brother. It was why I was created."

"Perhaps Michael just likes to feel the sun on his face." Zadkiel offered.

"Then perhaps we should have had this meeting on the sun." Zachariah said snidely.

Jophiel rolled her eyes and glanced expectantly at the place Michael just appeared. "Brother." She greeted.

"Jophiel." Michael greeted with a small tilt of his head. He glanced out at the other archangels. "Hello brothers."

"Michael," Zachariah started. "What is the meaning of this council exactly?"

"Something is happening here on earth." He answered glancing at his brothers. "Something dangerous." He turned to face his brothers. "Jeremial has had a vision."

The Archangels all tensed in surprise.

"What of?" Jophiel asked.

Michael put his back toward his brothers. "That which we do not name."

Zachariah's dour expression changed to that of amusement. "That?" He spat. He huffed out an amusing laugh. "That blasphemous fool has been buried in the depths of hell for over two thousand years."

Michael turned, his eyes a blazing gold. "You dare question the gift our father has given to our brother?"

Zachariah raised his hands. "No questioning here Michael. I'm just wondering if this is the wisest-"

"Zachariah!" Chamuel admonished.

Michael glared hard at his brother as he spoke. "Everyone will return to the host. Continue your assigned duties. Stay on alert for my word."

"What will you do Michael?" Jophiel asked.

Michael blinked once and turned his back to his brothers once again as he answered. "The impossible." He answered. "I'm going to find Raziel."

TBC


End file.
